Eyes Like the Deep Sea
by sprit o' the greenwood
Summary: little sophia was lost at sea when she was a baby. then she was miraculously returned. what happened to her?
1. Chapter 1

Eyes Like The Deep Sea

There are many stories told at family gatherings. Stories of how things were in the olden golden days, stories of what parents did when they were little, or embarrassing baby stories. But eventually these stories get old, and everybody tells new ones. In my family, however, there is one story that never gets old, and never goes without telling. That is the story of how I was rescued by Poseidon, God of the sea.

Details of this story sometimes change – depending on who is telling the story – like how old I was, or how long I was gone. What matters is that I was a tiny baby, and I was gone for long enough that I should have been dead.

My family has lived on Kythira (an island in Greece) since before I was born, but that doesn't mean that the rest of the world doesn't influence us. My Mother was eight months pregnant with me when she saw the movie _The Secret of Roan Inish_. She thought that the idea of a cradle made like a boat so that the sea would rock it was a genius idea and insisted Father make one for me. Being an understanding man (and not wanting to incur the wrath of a pregnant Greek woman) he complied.

It was a plain little thing, with a shallow hull, high sides to protect me from the sea spray, and a little half roof to protect me from the sun. At the foot there was a hole through which my mother looped a rope and tied me to shore. It was plain, but sea worthy, and Mother loved it. As soon as I was born she lay me in it and set me adrift. Mother had a kiosk at the fish market on the waters edge, so it was easy for her to set me afloat in the mornings and pull me back in to go home in the evenings. I never stayed out all day though. People would stop by to come see the new baby and mother pulled me back in to show me off and tell them "This is my little Sophia" then set me out again. I faintly remember the gentle rocking of the waves and the occasional fish bumping my cradle-boat.

One morning, however, Mother did not tie the line properly when she set me adrift. Mother says the rope must have come undone sometime around noon because she kept looking back at the water to check on me. Father says the rope must have come undone in the morning so I did not start to drift away until noon. When the rope came undone is not important. What _is_ important is that, unnoticed by everyone else, I began to drift away. Mother probably would have gone all day without noticing had not one of her neighbors asked "Where is little Sophia today?" Mother turned around to pull me back in, but all she saw was the rope. She began to scream and call out my name. As soon as people realized what was going on, they began to search for me, fishermen got back into their boats and set out to find me, but no one could spot the little cradle-boat. One thing that everyone agrees on is that I was too young to remember any of this. But if I concentrate really hard, I swear I can remember what happened to me.


	2. Chapter 2

It was hot. Unbearably so. I began to cry so that Mother would pull me in. but she never did. Now I began to cry in earnest. Why wasn't my Mommie coming for me? A sea gull landed on my cradle-boat. It looked at me for a moment and cocked its head. Then it flew away. I stopped crying when I felt some fish bump the bottom of my cradle-boat, like they did every day. This was comforting. Then a man's face appeared over me. Thinking back, his face must have been the most beautiful face I have ever seen. The man had sandy blond-brown hair and very tanned skin. But what I remember most are his eyes. They were a sort of greenish – blue. Eyes like the deep sea. And although his face was young, his eyes were ancient. He smiled, and his they crinkled up at the corners. He touched my nose and I fell asleep.

The next part is a bit fuzzy. Because I was a baby I probably don't remember colors or shapes or words correctly. Sometimes I wake up in a room that is bluish-green. Sometimes the room is greenish-blue. Once or twice, I remember it being clear, so that I could see the ocean outside (this leads me to believe that wherever I was, it was under water). Occasionally, my memory tells me the room was mother – of – pearl. Regardless of what color the room was, I remember two women hovering over me when I woke up.

They were exactly identical. And I don't mean like identical twins (because even though they are identical, there is something different). I mean there was no difference at all. They were scary and beautiful at the same time, if that makes any sense at all. When I opened my eyes they got excited and started babbling and cooing. One of them left, but was back an instant later with a bottle. The other one picked me up and began to feed me.

"Ooh, you like sea-cow milk, do you?" They both tittered like they were sharing a private joke. I didn't care. I was hungry, and it was food. I don't know how long this went on at night I would sleep in my cradle-boat, which floated in a little pool. When I woke up I was fed, changed, and played with. Occasionally other creatures would play with me. I must have dreamed these ones up because they were so inhuman and scary. But they never made me cry. Sometimes the handsome man who found me would visit. Then one morning (I know it was morning because I had just woken up, though I suppose I could have been napping) the handsome man came to see me with a smile on his face that reached all the way up to his eyes. He leaned over my cradle boat and smiled – like he did when he found me – and tapped my nose. I promptly fell asleep.

Father says I was gone for a week. Mother insists it was longer, but everyone else who tells the story says worried parents always add time. Regardless of how long I was gone, each day my Mother went down to the beach to look for me. The first few days she was hopeful. The next few days she was wistful. After that, she became doubtful. Finally, she just spent each day wandering the beach listlessly looking for closure. One day she met a man on the beach who began to ask her about me. She says it felt so good to unload her sorrows that she told him everything. When she finished, she told him that even thought I had been gone for so long, she knew I was still alive.

The next day, when Mother was walking down the shoreline, she sat down on a big piece of driftwood and cried. When she finished, she heard a bubbling sound; like water makes when it's boiling. Mother looked up to see the ocean water a few yards out begin to bubble. Then a geyser shot up and when the sea had calmed, there was my cradle-boat. Only it was different. Where before it had been plain wood, now it was carved with wave designs and decorated with sailor knots and colorful seashells.

Mother ran out to me but she didn't have to go far. The waves were carrying me to shore so that by the time she caught hold of the cradle-boat, the water was only up to her thighs. Mother says she didn't know what she would find. Whether I would be drowned or my bones picked clean by birds. What she did not expect was to find her little Sophia perfectly happy and healthy but most importantly, _**alive**_. Mother brought me home and (after being taken to the hospital and having the doctors proclaim me perfectly fine) everybody celebrated.

So that's the story of how I was lost at sea and (so the old Greek ladies, who have nothing better to do than gossip, like to say) rescued by Poseidon. One last thing though. Everybody swears that before the incident, my eyes were brown. Now, however, they are sort of greenish – blue. Eyes like the deep sea.


End file.
